Delivery
by paddywhacked
Summary: The last thing Dr. Gregory House expected to walk through the clinic door that morning was his own deliverance. The last thing Evelyn Shepherd expected to find in her cantakerous new boss was her own salvation
1. Close Encounters Of The House Kind

Dr. James Wilson knew the very second he walked through the doors of PPTH that it was going to be a different kind of day. First off, the lobby was dead silent when he entered. Silent enough that if someone had dropped a pin he was certain he would have heard it clear as a bell. Secondly, he could see House through the large glass windows that separated the lobby from the clinic and it appeared as if his cantankerous best friend was actually being pleasant to a patient. Something was most definitely ... off today. Wilson decided it was most likely in his best interest to head for the elevators and his office to enjoy this uncharacteristically nice day before it turned itself around for good. In doing so, however, he failed to see what had House in such a good mood.

Inside the clinic, House's sarcasm was still on high alert, as always, however the mood of the place was certainly lifting considering the waiting room was almost empty. And of the three cases he'd been forced to take that morning, two had been "prescribe and go's". This left him with plenty of time to exchange snarky, flirty, witticisms with the busty new receptionist. At the moment, as he was "listening" to his final patient describe his mundane flu symptoms he was trying to scientifically deduce her bra size. He was debating between a high C and a low D when a new body entered through the large glass double doors. Perfect, another patient to keep him away from the pressing task at hand. A second glance, however, revealed a pair of sensible low heeled shoes, a freshly pressed suit skirt, and most importantly a white lab coat and clipboard. House felt an intrigued smirk pass over his face as the new arrival nervously made her way across the room to his side, holding out her petite hand awkwardly. He stared at it for a long moment, his nose wrinkling as if he was afraid of contracting the bird flu from her touch, before turning to take her in, both his hands still tucked deep in his trouser pockets. She dropped her hand, clearing her throat anxiously as she forced her shaggy bangs out of her eyes.

"Erm...Doctor House?" It looked as if she'd nearly vomited as she'd forced the words out. She was scared of him. Her obvious terror of his presence was like a wave of pleasure crashing on the beaches of his ego and House let his interior grin sneak outward, smirking once more at her. She gulped. "Um...I'm...Evelyn Shepherd, Sir." She had a faint accent, House noted as she spoke again. Welsh, perhaps? He couldn't quite pinpoint it over her blatant stutter. "I'm...Dr. Cuddy...well.." She tripped over her words painfully, her eyes wide as a deer's in headlights. House took this time to give her a good once over. She was short, and her lack of a good pair of heels wasn't helping her in that department. She barely reached his shoulder and was forced to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. He was unsure how she managed to see him, however, behind her dark, wild, choppy bangs. The rest of her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Everything about her was boring, non-descript. House was starting to lose interest in this conversation already and it had only barely started.

"Did Cuddlefish send you to me so I could cure you of your verbal dyslexia?" he theorized sarcastically, sliding the chart he'd been holding into a slot by one of the exam rooms, jerking his head at the patient in front of him to get inside. The girl shook her head nervously and smoothed her bangs again.

"I'm..." She took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm her quaking nerves. She was starting to wear on House's patience. "I'm a transfer from BIDMC... Dr. Cuddy said you'd probably want to see me?"

"Beth Israel..." House mused. "So you're Harvard material." It was a statement, not a question but she still nodded her head violently in response.

"Yes, Sir." Another deep breath, this one slightly steadier. "I did my premed study at Cambridge and then attended Harvard for Med School." She looked at him hopefully, as if her credentials would impress him as they'd no doubt impressed her new boss. This girl had a lot to learn about the world according to Dr. Gregory House. He widened his eyes at her dramatically.

"Wow! And let me guess! Mommy or Daddums graduated from both schools before you." Her face fell.

"Well...well, yes. But..."

"I don't know what made Cuddy send you to me, and I really don't care. Unless you're planning on taking over my shift down here I think this chat is finished." She winced as he turned away, but she still plucked up the courage to speak up one last time.

"She said you would say that. And she said if you did to tell you I diagnosed a case of Primary Neuroendocrine Calcinoma of the liver."

"Well, I'm sure it wasn't a difficult diagnosis for your _Harvard_ trained attending." He spat the name out with disdain.

"I diagnosed it on my own." Her voice was low. She wasn't expecting this to impress him.

"Lucky guess." House was still ignoring her, opting instead to doodle an overly characterized version of the receptionist, paying special attention to the shading around her breasts. Evelyn huffed and flipped her messy ponytail over her shoulder indignantly.

"I treated it without my supervisors approval. So I'd say I was pretty goddamned positive..."

"And when was this? Six months ago? You don't need an attending to hold your hand anymore..." House turned to walk away and her face screwed up in anger. He felt a twinge of pleasure in his chest when he realized he'd struck a nerve.

"It was during my first year of internship." She spat. House stopped, turning back towards her. He gave her a good once over before holding out his hand, palm up. She stared at it, confused. Did he want to shake her hand _now_?

"Your credentials..." He said slowly, enunciating as if he was talking to a small child. "I assume you have them?" Her eyes widened in understanding and a twinge of shock and she fumbled with the manila folder she'd had holstered under her arm. He nodded once and disappeared into the exam room, leaving Evelyn bewildered.

It seemed that as soon as House disappeared, Dr. Cuddy was at her side, patting her shoulder. "Congratulations. You've just survived your first close encounter with the House kind."


	2. I'm So Clever, But Clever Ain't Wise

"Evelyn Shepherd. Attended Cambridge University for pre-med studies. Graduated in the top third percentile of her class. Attended Harvard Medical school for her medical studies. Graduated Magna Cum Laude. 4 years at Beth Israel Medical Center... Why are you having me look at this, again?" Wilson dropped the file he'd been reading back onto House's desk. "You should be hiring this girl already, before I steal her as my new assistant." Greg house eyed him and retrieved the file, paging through it again.

"Oh, come off it. We both know you don't want or need a new assistant." He fell silent as his eyes glanced over the pages in front of him for what must have been the tenth time. "There's nothing on here about her diagnosing history. No personal history..."

"You do realize that a personal biography isn't a general requirement for a resume, House." Wilson shook his head and threw his feet up on his best friend's desk. House dropped the folder again with a sigh.

"I guess I should put her to work. Wouldn't want to let a Harvard education go to waste. That would be a real crime." He pushed himself up from the desk, knocking Wilson's feet down with his cane before limping out into the hallway in search of his newest victim. Wilson rolled his eyes and reached for the TV remote, flipping the screen on and settling back to enjoy the rest of his lunch hour, House free.

* * *

Evelyn played nervously with the frayed upholstery of the worn chair that she'd pulled up to the wide table in House's office, where she'd been hearded with the rest of House's diagnostic team. It was her first day 'on the job' already and she was flustered beyond belief. The fact that House had found her in the clinic exactly 12 and a half minutes ago and informed her she was late for a job she hadn't been aware she'd secured might have had something to do with the butterflies.

The glass doors to the office slammed and Evelyn looked up to see house hobbling his way across to the room to a white board at the front of 'the class'. He started scrawling across it. Evelyn's eyes struggled to keep up with the string of symptoms that seemed to be growing exponentially by the minute. Headaches, seizures, distorted vision, several visits over the past 3 months, neuro-swelling, paranoia, mono...

"Epstein-Barr..." One of the older doctors in the room shouted out, making Evelyn jump in her seat. He could have had the decency to raise his hand at least, she thought numbly as House whirled around on them.

"If you showed up to work, instead of staying home with the _sniffles_ you'd know we'd already thrown that out." House snarled, limping towards his seat at the head of the table, throwing himself into his own well worn chair. Evelyn felt herself clearing her throat and before she knew what she was doing her hand was up in the air. House stared at her for a moment and then nodded.

"What about patient history? Is there any history of psychosis?"

"No."

"Drug use."

"No." House faked a yawn and turned to the rest of his team. "Would anyone else like to throw out some obvious questions? Don't worry guys, I haven't been a doctor all that long ... it's not like I would have thought to ask any of these." Evelyn fell quiet, falling back against her chair. She felt her stomach churn as her mind started to run a mile a minute. She opened her mouth once more, but closed it just as quickly, opting to try to camoflauge herself into the hideous print of the chair instead. House stared at her for a long moment and she felt herself start to squirm under his scrutiny.

"You had a suggestion. Go ahead."

Her heart stopped in her chest. She could feel her palms starting to sweat but somehow she managed to force herself to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well...the headaches and delusions suggest a tumor ... but I suspect she's killing her own white cells somehow, so it's not presenting. Especially if she's taking dextromethorphan and she's allergic. That would cause micropsia..."

House looked irritated. She shut her mouth.

"I want her taken in for another CAT-scan. If there's a tumor hidden in there ... anywhere ... I want you to find it."

"Wait!" Evelyn's hand shot up again. "Not a brain _tumor_. Brain _death_. Talk to her again. Check further into her history. She's bi-polar. She's self-medicating. That's why she's been here so much the past few months. She's filling her own 'prescriptions' by faking symptoms. The swelling in her brain isn't a tumor at all. The tissue is dying." House didn't acknowledge her. He just barked some orders at the other doctors. Evelyn sat stock still, unsure if he was pleased with her or angry for diagnosing before he'd gotten the chance.

"Dr. Shepherd." They were the only doctors left when he called her name. She hopped up obediantly and headed towards the head of the table to his side.

"Yes, sir?"

"We aren't in kindergarten anymore. Don't raise your hand." With that said, he pushed himself up and brushed past her on his way to the door. She'd known better than to expect praise from him but she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that he'd brushed off her accomplishment so quickly.

"He doesn't like anyone, you know." There was another doctor still in the room, one she hadn't noticed in her nervousness, his feet propped up on House's desk, a sandwich in one hand and a TV remote in the other. He laughed and let his feet fall to the floor, heading across the room to extend his hand to her. "I'm James Wilson. Oncology." They shook. "Dr. House isn't what you'd call 'socially acclimated'. But for what it's worth as a lowly cancer doc, that was a pretty good diagnosis...in my opinion. Alice in Wonderland syndrome as a symptom of brain death..."

"I was stupid not to realize what it was sooner. I knew someone with the same symptoms..." She said nothing more on the subject and Wilson didn't push. "I should...probably go check on the patient. Thank you...Dr. Wilson." He only nodded and Evelyn felt a smile spreading across her face as she headed for the door. Maybe not everyone in this place was a bad egg. Some of them were even kind of cute.


End file.
